A Veil of Red
by Sophiacharlotte
Summary: Hunting was always something Daryl had been good at, but before the turn he hunted something a little different. Caryl AU, Carol is not part of the Atlanta group in this story.
1. Chapter 1

AN: hello, very nervous about this. This is a prompt I have Halohunter89 but she was just too busy to tackle it at the moment. So she graciously let me take it back for myself. This is a crossover. Daryl is a Hunter (as in Sam and Dean hunter) who knew the Winchesters pre za. He is with the group from Atlanta, with one exception...Carol was never with the group. Carol will be ...something else. I'm not guaranteeing the appearance of The Supernatural group, but they will be spoken of.

Thanks Mac for all your help.

If you like this at all please review. I'm nervous about this and knowing your enjoying something motivates me.

Xxxxxxx

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

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The wind swirled through the trees, like an invisible icy blast. Daryl paused for a moment his hand bracing on the rough bark of a tree as he tried to catch his breath.

The world was veiled in fog, tipped on it's axis. His mind just could not see clearly, anymore than he could see through the blinding storm.

He pressed a hand to his head to try and staunch the blood that was flowing freely. Dribbling into his line a vision. A red veil across his eyes.

The group had travelled further north, then ever before, but they weren't prepared for the snow. Snow like they had never dealt with before. He was trying to hunt for the group, there were so few of them left. Rick, Carl, Maggie and Glenn. They had lost so many along the way since the the world ended. Somehow it felt like it was still ending. A never ending end. Like they had fallen off the edge of an abyss into a deep black hole. Hurtling through the minutes and moments left of their life as the world continued to deteriorate.

The tread on his boots was non existent. They were held together by duct tape and laces. The ice had been difficult to spot until he had fallen and smashed his head on rocks.

He was lost. Turned on his side, his mind unable to shake the fog of confusion. The storm was picking up. The group would be safe at the hunting cabin they were holed up in, but he was the one in trouble.

Hunting was the one thing he had always been good at. Before the turn, he'd just hunted something a little different.

He's specialty had been vamps. He left the really weird shit for the Winchesters. They loved that kind of stuff, or that stuff found them. Vamps were easy, predictable. Arrogant. Arrogance made you stupid.

"Fuck...says the stupid son of a bitch lost in a blizzard in the fucking zombie apocalypse." He huffed, wiping the freezing drizzle off his face.

He didn't know what had happened. The Winchesters had "accidentally" unleashed the darkness. He'd heard that among the Hunter's. They gossiped like old maids. Specially Garth.

It seemed like the world was succumbing to the Croatoan virus, in his opinion, but by the time he realized what the fuck was happening, the lines of communication were down. Then Merle went off the wagon, and he got stuck with this group.

There was no way to find the others Hunters, he figured his best bet was to stay with civilians. Protect the ones he could. He gradually worked his way north, towards Garth and the last known address he had for The Winchesters. Kansas. Rick trusted him and he was using that trust to hopefully lead the group and influence Rick the way he wanted.

He was surprised by how little activity he had seen along the way. No vamps, or were wolves or wendigoes. That asshole Crowley was probably throwing a fucking "wait out the apocalypse party"somewhere. He shivered at the thought of Crowley unleashing on the world the after party literally from hell.

Maybe all supernaturals were hiding as well. Humans were few and far between. He knew for a fact that zombies didn't have souls. Predators couldn't survive with nothing to eat.

He broke through the brush, to some thankfully flat land. He realized his mistake before he had a chance to correct it. The crack that reverberated around him had him holding his breath.

"Fuck" he muttered as he fell through the ice into the icy water.

Gasping he made his way to the shore line. It was only a few feet but it seemed like a million miles away.

He managed to step from the water to collapse gasping at the side. His clothing was already frozen stiff.

He turned staring up at a break in the clouds, seeing a beam of light shinning down upon him. It was as though God was beaming his light on to him.

"Fuck" he thought. I must really be hallucinating. God had checked out years ago as far as he knew.

Daryl...

A voice seemed to swirl on the wind as his mind rumbled toward unconsciousness.

Daryl...

But it was too late. He couldn't open his eyes, at least it was warm in his dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: another chapter

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead/ Supernatural

Chapter 2

The haze wouldn't lift from his mind. The fog was impossible to see through. He was drifting, falling through memories.

His daddy had started him and Merle hunting early. Too young, he'd been too young. Merle had tried to protect him. From the monsters that haunted his nights as well as the one his daddy had become. It was too much.

Merle had floundered, fallen. Turned to drugs and alcohol to numb the pain. Merle had taken off to hunt on his own. Daryl had been to young, too young to see what his daddy had been hiding, that a demon had possessed his meat suit.

Merle had come back and knew immediately what was happening. The exorcism had failed, his daddy died and Merle blamed himself. He'd taken Daryl and they had gone on the road. To wherever they were needed.

He realized with a panic Merle was gone.

"MERLE" he screamed. His hands braced on a surprisingly soft bed.

"MERLE"

"Shhh" A sweet voice floated across his body. This wasn't right, he was on a bed. Confusion, and frustration grabbed ahold of his soul.

Cool hands swept across his brow. A soft cloth in their wake. This wasn't right he thought as he thrashed.

"Shhhh Hunter, you are safe here." The voice whispered.

He shouldn't want to be touched. He'd barely tolerated that tattoos to ward of possession. A necessary evil. Her touch was light, was soothing like the wind.

A palm lay flat on his abdomen, over an old wound that Maggie had worried about. Infection she had thought.

The hand touched him and he was sure he saw a flash of light before he was pulled into unconsciousness again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The voice was humming, a sweet melodic melody.

He wanted to open his eyes. He needed to know where he was. Was he dead, was this his heaven? Somehow his mind rebelled at that thought. This wasn't his heaven. He knew that in his soul.

He should be dead, he should have been dead many times over. But today of all days he should be dead. He had been lying at the side of the river the last he remembered. Freezing to death. But now he was warm, and surrounded by softness and comfort. He should be dead.

He felt his agitation return, as he started to thrash.

The humming stopped and he heard light footsteps run to the room. He suddenly felt lips on his temple. A light brush that sent a bolt of lightning through his soul.

He suddenly relaxed as though he was molten lava, flowing aimlessly towards sleep. Why couldn't he open his eyes?

"Sleep peacefully Hunter, you're safe. You've protected others for so long. I will protect you." Her voice was a whisper, coming from a distance. He forced one eye to open briefly. He was met with eyes so blue, they put the sky to shame he thought sleepily.

He snorted at the thought. If Merle was here he would kick his ass for thoughts like that. Daryl fell asleep with a smile.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was dreaming, of when Merle had disappeared. Disappeared in the woods after leaving Woodbury. Daryl had turned around and he was gone.

Time had seemed to flow in leaps and bounds then. He'd lost all will to carry on. The only thing that had made him continue was the baby.

Judith was the most innocent of all. But he had failed her too. She had lost her life in the battle with the Governor.

The demon that had possessed the Governor's soul was barbaric. Out for blood, just for the fun of it. He'd warned Rick not to trust the man. They had already lost three quarters of the Woodbury people to a flu. But Rick had thought the man could be brought back. He'd been wrong, Rick had payed the price. Somehow Daryl had taken on all the losses, all the failures as his own. He was a hunter, he should be able to keep these people safe. But as they continued to pass he felt his failures adding up. Tearing at his soul. He couldn't save them.

He thrashed in his dream, the faces of those he had lost haunting him.

A light humming awoke him. It was a haunting soothing melody.

He opened his eyes and saw her, her back was turned to him, as she worked at the counter.

She was dressed in a pair of jeans. A flowing white blouse seemed to float around her body.

A long silver braid cascaded down her back. She turned then and he caught a glimpse of her face. Her skin was firm and smooth. She might have been twenty or forty. You couldn't tell by her face. She was ageless. She was beautiful.

He slammed his eyes shut as she approached the bed again. Pain was coursing through his body since he had woken. She laid her hand on his chest, she murmured something under her breath, and he felt a warmth float through his body. His pain was gone. He realized as drowsiness claimed him again he'd found his first supernatural being since the turn. Only question was; what was she?

"Sleep" she whispered "You're safe here Daryl."


	3. Chapter 3

AN: hey, well next chapter. I am so happy to see that some of you are reading even though you don't watch supernatural. For those of you that do watch I may vear away from cannon. For those of you that don't the watch the show "warding is when you draw symbols (sometimes in blood) along the walls or floor or ceiling that supernatural beings can't cross. Hunters have tattooed themselves with certain symbols to prevent demonic possession.

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead/Supernatural

Chapter 3

She was warding the cabin.

Daryl opened his eyes and realized with a start his confusion was gone, and he was incredibly weak. He tried to sit up, but he couldn't. Not even to reach his crossbow which was sitting by his bed, propped up on a chair next to his clothes which looked like they had been laundered and neatly folded.

"What the fuck..." He whispered to himself as he realized he was naked.

"You've been very sick Daryl. I took no pleasure in seeing your naked form." She said as she continued to ward, slashing the red symbols across the walls. She turned her chin over her shoulder and winked at him. "Well maybe not a lot of pleasure." She said with grin before returning to her task.

"What are you?" He asked his voice was hoarse and rough with disuse. His throat raw.

"You can call me Carol." She said as she moved to the next wall.

"That's not what I asked." Daryl said gruffly in frustration.

She turned staring at him intently before answering "I know."

She finished her task and moved across the room rinsing her bowl that held her grisly paint.

"Whose blood is that?" He growled. .

"My own." She turned and eyed him "Are all hunters so curious? You haven't even thanked me for saving your life."

Daryl would have almost laughed. This 'Carol' was dressing him down and giving him an evil eye with her brow quirked that he was sure made anyone she came in contact with shake in their boots. She was tiny with porcelain skin and silver hair but she looked like she could take on Lucifer himself without batting an eyelash.

"How many hunter's have you known?" He asked, trying another way to get information out of her.

She turned and put her head down. "I've only met one...he was a good man, but that was a long time ago." She whispered.

"Are you a witch?" He tried again as unconsciousness pulled at him. His strength was wearing. She came over to him, putting her hand to his forehead. Where before she had seemed angry in her movements, she was all concern now. She touched him almost tenderly. Like she was scared she would hurt him somehow.

A mug appeared at his lips, he looked at her suspiciously. She grinned "It's lemon tea...I swear."

He nodded and sipped at the lukewarm liquid. It soothed his throat all the way down. He hadn' t realized how dry his mouth was and how thirsty he had been, or how sore his throat was. Suddenly he found himself downing the glass.

She perched at the side of his bed. " You were very sick when I found you. I know there are others, waiting on you. Depending on you, but they are safe, and you are still sick. Even if you wanted to leave I fear the wheather would not permit it." As if to illustrate her point the wind whipped howling against the walls of the cabin. "You're safe I will protect you." She whispered, brushing a stray lock from his forehead. He realized with a start he hadn't flinched. He was floating drifting back to sleep. The bed was just too comfortable.

"Why were you warding the walls?" He asked sleepily as he fell further towards sleep.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. Her fingertips brushed quickly over one his tattoos to ward off demonic possession. "While I am happy to know that at least one Hunter has survived the apocalypse. I don't want to be caught unawares if others with less noble motives have survived as well." She said, then added with a wry grin the last thing he heard before falling asleep "Plus you Hunters seem to attract trouble wherever you go."


	4. Chapter 4

AN:

Hey new chapter

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead/Supernatural

Chapter 4

"Can I have my clothes back?" Daryl asked watching as Carol who was across the room sitting curled in a chair did not seem in the least surprised that he was awake.

"My goodness Daryl, you have quite the ego to think I was deliberately without holding your clothes." Carol said not looking up from her book. "They are beside you on the chair." She said nodding to his things.

"I don't think like that I .." He sputtered.

"Why not?" She asked.

"Why not what?" He was incredibly confused. She seemed to have that effect on him more than anyone else his whole life.

"Why, don't you think like that? You don't know me maybe I am taking pleasure in keeping your clothing just out of your reach." She grinned as she kept reading.

"You just said you weren't." He muttered.

"Sorry to break it to you sweetheart but people lie." She said quirking her brows and turning the page of her book calmly.

"You said I must have a big ego." He was all but pouting now. Jesus Christ what the hell was wrong with him she had him turning around in circles just to go around again.

"Why is it a bad thing to know you're own worth." She asked.

"I didn't you did." He growled annoyed now.

She looked up from her book calmly and smiled at him serenely like she didn't have a care in the world. "You're the one who let it bother you. You're a handsome man Daryl. Being aware of that is not a bad thing. As long as it doesn't make you an assbutt." She smiled and went back to her book.

His face flamed at her calling him handsome. She had in a tailspin like he was 15 years old. He growled "Can I get dressed or not?"

Carol bit her lip and turned a new page. "I don't know...can you?"

He stared up at the ceiling in growing frustration. He needed to go to the bathroom and it was becoming more of a pressing need.

"If you need to go to the bathroom, you could just say so. Isn't there a book or something 'Everybody pees' it's not like it's just you." She said coming over to him.

"Poops."

"Well yes everybody does that too, but I don't need to know that. You can be discreet about what number." She said peeling back the blankets at his feet and putting a soft pair of pyjama pants over his feet, hauling them up as far as she could and then letting him pull them the rest of the way up.

"No...that's the name of the book." He growled.

"Really I thought it was pees." She said pulling the blanket from his lap when he had the pants covering him. "But I guess if you read it you would know." She said.

"I ain't never said I read it. Sweet lord." He puffed and stopped when she giggled "You've been shitting me this whole time?"He asked incredulously and she laughed even harder.

"Bad choice of words." She said between laughs.

"Lady I just gotta piss." He growled in frustration.

"Alright, Alright hold your horses handsome." She said. "Can you swing your legs over the edge of the bed?"

Daryl braced himself to swing his legs shocked at how weak they actually were. "What the fuck?" He huffed out as he wobbled perched on the end of the bed.

She quickly stepped into the v formed by his legs, her hands coming down to his shoulders to steady him.

He wasn't flinching he realized, she had her hands running across his shoulders and all he could think about was how good it felt. "Go easy Hunter, there are no Hell hounds chasing you down." She said.

"No, just a sassy witch?" He muttered in question. He sighed his forehead resting on her stomach. Damn her hands was definitely working magic on his back.

She snorted "I can assure you, I don't practice the dark arts. Care to try again?" She asked. "Or would you like to attempt to make it to the bathroom?"

He sighed standing up her hands steadying him, looking down into her beautiful face. "Man's gotta do what a man's do." He said softly.

She shifted and brought her shoulder under his arm as they started the slow walk to the bathroom. He almost didn't hear her when she spoke softly.

"That's what I'm scared of."


	5. Chapter 5

AN: hey new chapter. Little filler to start. Second AN, at the end.

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead/ Supernatural

Chapter 5

The cabin held the main room, one bedroom and a bathroom. He assumed pre turn it was a luxury hunting cabin for some city yuppie.

The fixtures were expensive and everywhere he looked there was high quality material. Someone had put great effort into making this cabin comfortable.

And it was a relative fortress Daryl realized from his back on the bed in the main room, later that night.

The heavy wooden beams were supporting the roof and the walls were incredibly thick, he wouldn't be surprised to know that they were reinforced by more that the warding that decorating the walls.

Daryl propped himself up with some difficulty to stare out the window, there was a deep groove along the sill, he ran his finger along the crevasse in the sill. It was filled with salt.

He couldn't help but worry about Rick, Carl, Maggie and Glenn. They had been through so much and in a way he felt responsible for their survival, he didn't want to fail them the way he had Judith.

They had been lucky to find the prison. The governor finding them had been partially his fault. Or Merle's he supposed.

Merle had hated the quarry group from the start. He hadn't wanted to help them, to join up with them. He had wanted to head North and find the Winchesters. Merle had always liked the Winchesters, especially Dean. The two were like peas and carrots when they met up. Sam had often described them as the frat boys that should have been, if Dean had went to college. Or if Merle had finished high school.

Never the less Daryl had seen the woman and children in the quarry group and had known instantly that he couldn't leave them to their own devices. Merle had hated them all. Daryl half suspected that when Rick had handcuffed Merle to the roof he had cut off his hand and had not come back just to spit him. Daryl snorted only Merle would he ever suspect to have amputated his own hand out of spite.

They had found the prison after the farm had fallen, and Daryl had hoped that they had found a place were the group would be safe. Where he could base his search for Merle. But then Merle had found them and with him had come the wrath of the governor. He had left initially, with Merle, heading out on the road. But then Merle, being Merle, had ditched him and disappeared.

Daryl had returned to the prison. They had fought off the governor and taken in the Woodbury residents. The place had fallen into was off his rocker with guilt, and the day to day running of the prison had been to much. Especially when the flu had hit. It hit hard and fast wiping out half the population of Woodbury in one day. When the governor had returned, the prison group had barely been able to lift their heads from their sick beds let alone fight.

The consequences had been harsh.

The group had scattered to the wind. They had only ever found those who remained with him now. That had been a year had been on the road ever since.

He groaned as he felt his stomach rumble. It had to be at least two am. His luck that he would finally get his appetite back when there was nothing he could do about it.

Carol had been making pie earlier. She had simply shrugged when he asked her where the fruit had come from. The berries she had been adding to the pie appeared fresh. A difficult accomplishment these days. The smell was what had got him. The pie smelled like heaven on earth. Dean would have married this woman with no hesitation.

His appetite had been building all night. She had offered him food all day. She had practically begged him to eat, but he had not been up to it. But now, now when she was sleeping, his stomach was growling and there was no end in site. He was mildly annoyed with her because of this and he wasn't sure why. It wasn't her fault, but the fact she had predicted he would wake hungry was annoying. Of course she was right.

Damn... Now he wanted some pie.

A shadow passed quickly through trees. He worked his way up to get a better glimpse. Suddenly he realized he was a little stronger than before and with a lot of effort and some cursing he got up off the bed, grabbed his knife. The bow was just overkill when he was being paranoid he told himself. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was pretty sure he was too weak to lift it. Holding on to the bed he started to make his way to the door using the bed for support.

"Daryl."

His head wiped up at the voice that was calling to him from outside.

"Merle?"

His voice was a half choked whisper. Was it possible after all this time Merle had found him? He'd never stopped hoping that when Merle disappeared the second time, somehow he would manage to find his way back to him.

"Yes brother. Open the door. Let me in."

That did not sound like something Merle would say. But he had been on his own for awhile. He found himself hypnotized, heading to the door, as though in a trance.

When his hand was on the door, the voice spoke again. "Let me in brother, I'm cold and hungry."

"Just a second asshole, the door is locked." Daryl chuckled as he worked through the locks in excitement.

"Okay Brother." The voice said from behind the door. The door sailed open as two things happened.

Carol entered the room, her silver hair a rioutous mess flowing around her shoulders with opalescent streaks of colour glowing from the light of the moon. She had a blade in her hand and was wearing shorts and a tank top as though she had jumped from her bed and grabbed her weapon.

"Don't open the door" she had screamed. Just as he realized that not once had Merle insulted him when they spoke through the door.

Suddenly she was in front of him. Battling the tall gangly white being that had entered the room. He was too weak to even help. She was well on her way to overpowing the monster anyway.

He couldn't believe he had made a rookie mistake and let in a wendigo.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

An: #2. For those of you that don't watch Supernatural.

⁃salt is used across doorways and windows as it is believe certain evil cannot cross it.

\- Dean Winchester has a more

Fun loving personality. While Sam is the more serious of the two. I can picture Dean and Merle being friends. Dean loves pie. It's a running thing on Supernatural

⁃a wendigo is a cannibalistic monster on Supernatural who can imitate voices


	6. Chapter 6

AN: another chapter :) I have got major writers block. Trying to work through it. That's why this is short. Reviews would be great, so let me know what you think :)

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead/Supernatural.

Chapter 6

xxx xxx xxxx

What the hell the hell was she?

Daryl sat stunned on the bed as Carol was outside disposing of the body of the Wendigo.

She had no problem taking down the large monster. He noticed she had grabbed a silver tipped arrow, from his quiver that he kept for emergency. Carl had once asked why he never used that arrow. He'd made up a story about how that was his emergency arrow. It was, but it was his sups emergency arrow. Silver wasn't that fucking easy to come by these days.

She'd taken the Wendigo down easily. Her movements graceful as she wielded the arrow like a dagger. Almost revelimg in the activity. The exertion. She was amazing.

He would have had trouble with Merle helping him, she didn't break a sweat. Her movements were graceful, easy, and full of strength. Abnormal unparalleled strength. Her tiny frame was a powerhouse. He was wracking his brain to try to comprehend what he just saw, and ignoring the fact that it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life.

What was she?

His thoughts were interrupted as she came back in. Her silver hair swinging and swirling around her shoulders like a sparkling veil.

"You ain't worried about the fire attracting the dead?" He said hoarsely knowing without a doubt she had burned the body.

She turned quirking her brow. "Who says I'm scared of the dead?"

"I don't suppose you gotta after what I just saw?" He murmured watching her as she came across the room.

"Are you scared?" She smirked, her double meaning clear.

He paused staring at her thinking for a moment. He wasn't, he wasn't scared of her.

"Naw..."

His voice was hoarse. He felt some pull to her that he couldn't understand.

"What are you doing to me?" He whispered.

She was between his legs now he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Nothing...I swear." She murmured as she ran her hands down his chest.

"What is this then? A spell?..or..." He groaned as her lips fluttered across his collarbone.

"Has it really been that long since you've been attracted to a woman Daryl?" She asked in a husky voice.

"You ain't human.." He murmured as his hands grasped her ass. "What are you?" He said again as his lips started to nip at her neck.

"Nothing evil." She panted as his hand came up under her tank top.

A sudden burst of strength seemed to flow through him. It was filling his every pore. He couldn't be sure but it felt like it was coming from her.

He flipped her on the bed hovering above her, whispering one thing before he kissed her again.

"Fair enough."


	7. Chapter 7

AN: hey another chapter.

I do not own or profit from Supernatural or The Walking Dead

Chapter 7

The silence was golden. It flowed around them encircling them in a cocoon that no one could break. No Walker, or wendigo, no Rick or Merle. None of the shit that life seemed to throw at him, was possible now. In this moment.

Her head was pillowed on his chest. As he stroked her naked back. He was fascinated by her skin, he had mapped out a good portion of it earlier. It was soft, like silk or satin. He'd seen woman, before the turn spend all there money to get skin like this. With Carol he knew it just was, this was her.

Her hair, fascinated him as well. The silver strands seemed to glow depending on the light. If anything the hair added to her ageless look. She could be 20, or 200. He wasn't sure. Although he was really hoping she wasn't 20. That would be fucking creepy.

"How old are you?" He murmured.

"Why..does it matter?" She whispered.

"Naww, just curious. I don't go for younger women." He said kissing her temple.

"How old are you?" She asked.

"39."

"I think,... that I'm 38. But I'm not sure. There wasn't a record made of my birth." She said softly.

Her voice held a pain, that he wanted to understand. Suddenly he wanted to know everything about her. Fix all the wrongs that had been given her. He wanted to know it all, and he was almost angry that he didn't.

"Why?" He said briskly. She looked at him in confusion. "Why wasn't there a record of your birth?" He said again.

Her fingers danced softly over the tattoos on his chest. He groaned thinking of all that had transpired between them.

Sex had never been this way for him. The raw unparalleled lust, the need that he felt for her. He had been unable to touch her enough, to get closer. He had wanted deeper, harder, closer, faster. He had thought once would get her out of his system. Whatever strange hold she had on him would be broken. But it hadn't. Three times he had her and he could barely contain himself from wanting her again. But first he wanted to understand.

"There was no record of my birth because my parents wanted to hide my existence." She murmured.

He was silent, intrigued. Wanting her to continue. "What are you?...I would never hurt you, I swear" He asked again.

She sat up, her hair cascading and shielding her body. "A survivor," she whispered then turned towards him " But I think the correct term is Nephilim."

Daryl sat up staring at her, "There is no more Nephilim's left on earth.."

"There was one, she's gone now. I felt her existence be extinguished. Her existence was not concealed." Carol said softly. "When the Angels fell, it was her heart that was used." She whispered. "My father...he was more ... Clever. He protected me." She murmured.

"This can't be. You..." Daryl paused not sure what to say.

She got up, went to her closet, walking across the room naked with no hesistation. She pulled out a blade wrapped in cloth, Daryl's heart speeding up when he recognized the Angel Blade.

He watched in amazement as she pricked the very tip of her index finger. Instead of blood a muted blue light radiated out of the puncture. Which she showed him, then passed her other hand over the prick healing it instantly. She looked up at Daryl, her blue eyes held an otherworldly glow.

"My father, was an Angel."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Nephilim are the offspring of angels on Supernatural. On the show there was thought to be only one left on earth, Jane who was killed by Castiel. When he wanted to banish the Angels from heaven.

An angel's blade is a weapon on the show that can injure an Angel or Nephilim.

An Angel glows white light when cut, Jane glowed blue so I am assuming Nephilim's glow blue :)


	8. Chapter 8

AN: hey guys. Sorry for the long delays. My writers block for twd has been killing me. I've been writing some original stuff, and I have self published my first book! I don't think I'm allowed to link it here. But I have linked it on my tumblr. I'm Thejadehermit if anyone is interested in checking it out! Let me know what you think of this chapter. I'm trying to get my groove back after last night's hug. An at the end with Supernatural explanations for those who need them :) let me know what you think.

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

Chapter 8

Xxxxx

My father was an Angel.

Xxxxxx

A nephilim? That was not what he had expected. Fuck ten years ago he hasn't even known that Angels existed let alone where walking among them. Apparently the fluffy winged bastards were horny motherfuckers too.

"Your mother...," he trailed off, unsure how to even ask the question.

"Human...and a prophet." Carol whispered sitting down on the bed.

"A prophet?" He scratched his head softly. It made sense. Her mom would have had to have tremendous faith.

"She died, when I was 13, a new prophet was born." She murmured her hand coming up to the necklace at her throat. A gold cross he had noticed earlier. It was all she was wearing. It felt somewhat surreal to be having this conversation as she sat completely in the nude with no reservations.

"My father brought me here. This cabin is protected. He would come here several times a day to check on me, until he felt it was unsafe. He trusted one man with my location. A hunter. He would come, bring me supplies and check on me. It was more for company. I long ago discovered I have certain abilities beyond what Jane, the other Nephilim had." She murmured staring at him to gauge his reaction.

"What?"

She closed her eyes and snapped her fingers as he gasped. A ripe Apple was sitting in the palm of his hand.

"Eat it, it's real. You're hungry." She said brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"Who was the Hunter?" Daryl asked after taking a bite. Carol grinned, straddling his lap, nipping and licking at the juices trailing down his chin.

"His name was Bobby, he stopped coming a long time ago." She whispered nibbling at his neck.

He sighed as she kissed her way down his neck. Bobby? The only Hunter named Bobby he knew was ..

"Wait Bobby Singer?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes" she pulled back staring at him. "Do you know him?" She said staring at him innocently.

"Yeah...I'm sorry sweetheart he died."

Her eyes filled with genuine tears. Crystal sapphire blue, the genuine emotion was overwhelming to Daryl. She laid her head down on his shoulder.

"He was a good man, like a second father." She murmured as he stroked her back.

"I'm sorry, Bobby was a good guy." He agreed.

"Then they are all gone, all of my family." She whispered her face in his neck.

"You're dad?" He asked.

"I have to believe my dad is dead. It's been years. He left me here, alone with only Bobby visiting for company. He must be dead." She whispered again.

"Who was your dad?" He asked.

She turned her head and sat up staring at him. "When I said that I had powers Jane did not, I was not lying. I healed you. I discover new things I can do every day. I think I can do more than Jane because, because of who my dad was." She said bringing her palms up to his cheeks. "My dad was an arc angel; Gabriel."

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For anyone who does not watch supernatural. Bobby Singer was a hunter who was a surrogate dad figure to Dean and Sam, and a good guy, who seemed to know everything. The arc Angels are an important part of Supernatural. They are brothers; Lucifer, Micheal, Rapheal, and Gabriel. Gabriel was the one who enjoyed humans the most and hated the fighting between Lucifer and Micheal. He escaped to earth. When the Winchesters first encounter him he is mistaken for a trickster. Bobby tells them that is what he is. This is my hmm what if Bobby really knew who he was, and trying to protect Carol, but still help the Winchesters? :)


	9. Chapter 9

AN: hey guys. New chapter, little smut. Light bdsm ;) let me know what you think :)

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead or Supernatural.

Chapter 9

"You're dad was the arc angel...Gabriel?" Daryl sat shocked as Carol continued her assault on his neck.

It all seemed to make sense, but it was hard to believe, even contemplate. The hunters kept each other well informed, he had never had too many dealings with Gabriel, but he knew all about him.

"You're dad is dead, sweetheart, I'm sorry." He whispered pulling back and staring into her eyes.

She shook her head as if she expected it, pressing her forehead to his. "How?" She whispered softly as a single tear slowly trickled down her face.

"He was helping some friends of mine The Winchesters and he was killed by Lucifer." It was crazy, Daryl had just meet her, but things had progressed so quickly. His heart ached at the look on her face, the raw pain that seemed seep from her eyes, her very soul.

"He just wanted peace among his family, among those he loved. He wanted them to be happy. I think it hurt his heart, his soul to know that he could not even trust them with the knowledge of my existence. It's better this way, I'll never doubt his love for me, and honestly you never quite know what he had up his sleeve." She whispered a small smile lifting the edges of her lips.

She was still sitting straddling his lap, her body moving softly over his. He felt his breath catch in his throat as her skin seemed to slide across his chest. She was softness and silk. Even as a thousand questions seemed to bombard his mind, his hands could not seem to control themselves as he pulled her in to him. He could simply hold her forever.

Her hips started to rock gently he could feel his dick sliding along her wet folds. The heat emanating from her was almost too much. He'd spent so long since the turn, and even before feeling cold. He wanted to burrow into her warmth. He wanted to stay there forever.

He nestled his head into her neck.

"There will be time, tommorow, for all your questions and for us to plan What's next. I need you." She said huskily. He grabbed hold of her hips, pulling her down into him even more his dick still cradled in her folds and she moved and writhed on him, rocking her hips so the blunt head of his length rubbed over her clit.

He simply held her too him, her chest pressed as tightly as he could get it to his.

Her hips came up suddenly and suddenly he was at her entrance, pulling her down on to him.

His hand fisted in her long silvery hair. She moaned softly at that as she began to ride him slowly. His hand was clamped on her back, holding her as tightly to him as he could. His splayed hand on her back could feel every shiver that seemed to escape her body, as she lifted herself off his length her silky skin rubbing across his chest and back down again, so King on to him fully, burying him deep inside her each time.

His other hand stayed fisted in her hair. He couldn't let go. Something was firing inside him. This need to dominate and control her movements. He'd never felt this way before. His hips starting rising of the bed, to meet her. He was gradually losing his hold on his control, soon the part of him, the part that wanted to claim her, to mark her as his own, would come roaring to life.

"I am yours" she whispered her head titled to the side slightly I his hold exposing her neck.

He wasn't a vamp, and he'd never had that link, but suddenly he couldn't stop himself from biting down on that beautiful neck exposed to him.

She moaned loudly and he could feel her walls growing tighter. He growled, sliding out of her, flipping her over so her stomach was pressed into the bed.

His arm clamped tightly around her waist he pulled her ass up and entered her again from behind quickly. His lustful fever raging even higher as she cried out in pleasure. His hand found her hair again. Pulling her body the way he needed it.

He felt her, climax then. Her cries fuelling him as he lost himself in her, completly beyond any control at that point. It was as though his mind seemed to shut down, only one word raging through his mind. Mine.

He collapsed on top of her, as they both caught their breath. Sliding down slowly, he pillowed his head on her stomach his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He drifted off to sleep as she ran her fingers through his hair and scratched lightly at his scalp. She was right. There was time to plan tommorow.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: hey, I'm sorry it took so long to update. To the anon who was a little angry about that all I can say is sometimes in the midst of a story I get some writers block. I always try to work through it though. Not saying I'm. Back on track with this story - but I'm trying. More than anything I hate leaving works unfinished. Let me know what you think :)

I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead

Chapter 10

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"Your group, do they know, who you are,... about supernatural beings?"

Daryl watched as Carol moved fluidly around the small cabin the next day. There was an ease, a grace to her movements, she seemed to flow like water, every movement flowing towards the next. Seamlessly; she was graceful, beautiful.

He sat enthralled at the table, as she made breakfast. Watching fascinated by the way the sun was reflecting off her hair. It seemed to reflect light like crystal, silvery strands flowed with blues, and pinks, and purple hues, and it swirled around her as she moved.

Watching her body, was causing flashes of moments from the previous night to fly through his mind. He'd explored her body at length. He hoped to do so again soon.

"You will"

She was behind him suddenly murmuring to him, her hands massaging his shoulders softly, then threading her fingers through his hair. He didn't flinch at her touch, he revelled in it.

"Let me guess...you can read minds too." He muttered as he tried to control his dick. Fucking traitor was getting way too excited by her hands on him.

"Yes...is that a problem?" She whispered, running her lips along his neck. She chuckled when shook his head no.

"So...do they know?" She asked again

Daryl had often suspected that the group had certain suspicions about him, but he'd never come out and told them outright about sups, hunting, nothing. They were overwhelmed by the state of the world, survival was the priority. He didn't want to lay the prospect of vampires, and were wolfs waiting around any corner that zombies were not. So he'd kept it to himself, kept his eyes open, took watch more times than he hadn't, trying to keep them safe, and more often than not...he'd failed. It weighed deeply on him, every loss.

"You bore the weight of the world on your shoulders...but the world is to heavy to lift on your own. Even for a hunter. It's time to put your trust in more than yourself. Not everyone will disappoint you." She murmured, coming around to perch on his lap. She was hypnotizing, soothing. He wanted to surrounded himself in the peace she seemed to radiate.

In another time, in another place, he could be happy here, Daryl had an image of living with her, in her little cabin in the woods. Protecting her (although she didn't need any protecting) being happy. But not with the group, out there, suffering.

"I can bring them here." She murmured, her nose nuzzling into his neck sending shivers running up along his spine, an sudden image of Carol naked and riding him, in her head thrown back in ecstasy hair swirling Bout her body in waves like swirling silver waves.

"Bring them here?" He murmured confused, his fingers grasped at her waist, pulling her closer, she pulled her leg up and over his lap, straddling him, he groaned into her neck.

"I...I ..I have inherited my father's ability to teleport...myself and others." She murmured.

He pulled back a little shocked "Holy fuck...Really?" He asked.

"Yes..."

The more she revealed of herself the more he began to realize Gabriel's reasons for hiding her. Gabriel must haven known the powers she would develop. He must have hidden her for her own safety. So many dark forces in the world would literally kill to get their hands on her. How could he ask her to expose or risk herself further, than what she already had.

"I trust your group, if you do...and I can no longer sit her waiting while the world burns around me. I feel it, you think finding the Winchesters and their angel we might have a chance to change the course of the future. If I can help them I will.." she whispered.

"The Angel, Castiel he killed Jane..." Daryl whispered, unsure if he could ever trust Castiel with Carol.

"He had his reasons, he thought it was for the best." She murmured.

"You have your blade... you keep it with you at all times. I don't give a shit, if he tries anything you gut him...that is if we can find them." Daryl said. The Winchesters were his friends, but honestly Castiel had always creeped him out in his point blank honesty. He knew Dean would never forgive them if anything happened to Castiel, he and Merle had often wondered about the connection that existed between their friend and the Angel but as Merle had been quick to point out much like Merle, Dean was a bit of a man whore with woman.

"An angel is not the being they posses...needless to say that is not important at the moment. Let me get your friends." She whispered. Then put her fingers to his temple, the image of the cabin where he'd left the group seemed to be brought forward into his mind. She closes her eyes and snapped her fingers and suddenly they were sitting in the midst of a shocked looking Rick, Carl, Maggie and Glenn.


End file.
